#zoril

[zorilleerrant]

WIP game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Thank you @striveattemptfail for the word WHALE

Well, he’d probably categorize it as come hither, but to each their own. “Copernicus Dale,” I say. “That’s me,” he says. Slowly. Langorously. I hate him already. “Okay, well, I’ve come to get you out, so if you have anything to take with you, pack it up or finish up your deals for it,” I say. He tilts his head, like he has all the time in the world. God. (I feel the demons turn to look at me when I think that.) “Who sent you?” “I didn’t get a name,” I say, “just yours.” “Really?” he says, and the smile finally lights up his eyes. He doesn’t seem like as much of a smug douchebag like that. I hold up my hand so he can see the scrawl, if he can read it. I assume he can read Adamantine if someone sent me to get him here, but I can’t vouch for my handwriting.

(Another excerpt from SDATT. original)

He sighs. “Dr. Green says I need to confront my fears.” “You’re afraid of quiche,” I clarify.

(From the main storyline of WHC. original)

“Are you a necromancer?” he asks. I pause. “I think we all are. Or, at least, all of us whose templates are necromancers, which is going to be most of us overall. I don’t know whether it’s part of the process or part of what we’re copying.” “Do you know what we’re doing here?” he asks. I look up at him. He has unassuming features. I wonder whether he’s trying hard not to make any expressions right now, or he just always looks like that. “You are supposed to be watching me, to make sure I don’t start committing atrocities or something. I am just trying to survive long enough to remember what I planned to do here.” He looks vaguely worried at that, but it’s all in the eyes. “It wasn’t committing any kind of atrocity, was it?”

(From the thing with the necromancers and the cloning, as yet untitled until I think of one. original)

Luxury like I’ve never seen before. Oh there were some that looked just like us – or like I will look, with my new clothes; I’ve bought pants that suit me very well if I do say so myself – but some of them! The men look dashing and the women ethereal and all of them in so many layers with hats and belts and ribbons and tassels and so much embroidery on everything! I think, when I come back home, I’m going to have all of my clothes embroidered and never go about plain again. It was like being in a play, and I was on stage with a whole troupe dancing their way around me while I made a lovely moving scene, dying in front of the prince so he could cry over never having loved me enough, or what have you. You should come yourself, if it wouldn’t upset your sensibilities too much.

(From the Hill House/Dracula crossover)

Extended silence is unusual for humans when spending long periods together, so I’m attempting to make small talk. Murderbot has given me a guide to this, which is very helpful, although I do sometimes wonder if I did anything wrong asking for help, because it gave me the strangest look when I brought the topic up. A look similar to the one Ratthi is giving me now, something I’ve come to interpret – with high 90s accuracy – means that I’ve done something out of the social norm.

(From the Murderbot story for FTH)

If you were tagged on the last one and want to be tagged again, let me know. If you weren't tagged either time and you want to be, let me know. Or just pretend I tagged you! @confusedshades @elodieunderglass @teashoesandhair @clockwayswrites

Your word is: MYTH

[inprimalinie]

”Aici zorile sunt liniștite” - filmul de astăzi de la Clubul Rus, care a creat senzație în străinătate

Clubul Rus din București prezintă astăzi sâmbătă, 22 iunie 2024, un film de senzație, intitulat ”Aici zorile sunt liniștite”. Georgiana Arsene Un film despre pierderi, luptă, prietenie și putere! Pe 22 iunie de Ziua memoriei și doliului (Ziua începerii celui de-al Doilea Război Mondial) vă invităm să vizionați o producția filmată după celebra povestire a lui Boris Vasiliei – Zorile aici sunt…

[kaidraconia]

Zoril Vyer

Race: Asmodeus Tiefling

Gender: Male

Age: 20 (Beginning of Neverwinter) 22 (Icewind Dale) 32 (Jungles of Chult) 52 (BG3) 53 (Actual Retirement) 63+ (Lich transformation)

Class: Wizard

Alignment: Lawful Good

Makos Vyer

Makos only exists in the Neverwinter MMORPG and unfortunately got sidelined a lot, there is very little known about him so I didn't go much into his personality and mostly everything but when he met Zoril, when he died, how you meet him in Chult as a Lich and age 56 is not cannon (Makos pronounced is "Make oh ss")

Race: Asmodeus Tiefling (Tiefling Lich later)

Gender: Male

Age: 56 (Beginning of Neverwinter, Cannon age), 58 (Icewind Dale, Alive), 68 (Jungles of Chult, Lich) 88 (BG3, Lich) 98+ (Lich with Zoril)

Class: Warlock

Where he was created

I made him in the Neverwinter MMORPG originally on my PS4 before I got my PS5 in late 2022

In Neverwinter (the MMORPG)

In game, he fought hundreds of battles and slayed many foes, I imagine he has done every available campaign in the game (I have not finished them all but im slowly trying to) the list of campaigns is:

DREAD RING

STORM KING'S THUNDER

ICEWIND DALE

THE CLOAKED ASCENDANCY

JUNGLES OF CHULT

RAVENLOFT

DESCENT INTO AVERNUS

PATH OF THE FALLEN

DRAGONSLAYER

SHARANDAR

DRAGONBONE VALE

NORTHDARK REACHES

MENZOBERRANZAN

DEMONWEB PITS

LIGHT OF XARYXIS

Relationship with Makos

They met when Zoril washed up on the shores of Neverwinter when it was under attack and it was love at first sight for Zoril, but due to their age difference Makos was very hesitant in returning the feelings (Zoril was 20 and Makos has 56 at the time that they met) but after a year of working together and saving the city they decided to try things slowly but only a year after the relationship Makos died on a mission protecting their group of heros (this actually happened in Neverwinter, Icewind Dale) and as the others were fleeing just before he died, Makos threw he was planning to propose to Zoril with at the ship the others were on.

For many years Zoril was depressed and 10 long were he focused on nothing but adventuring and saving people, spending little to no time on himself his health started to slowly fall. That changed when Zoril and a group of heros went on a simple adventure to the Jungles of Chult, they found Makos but he had been revived as a Lich and despite that Zoril ran to him and they were reunited. They married shortly after

Retirement

After another 20 years of being champions, Zoril and Makos decided to officially retire from adventure. Zoril became a Baker in Neverwinter and Makos continued to rid the streets of criminals by using their souls to sustain him, while also trying to find a way to extend Zoril's lifespan infinitely without a risky and death Lich transformation

Baldur's Gate 3

When he was taken by The Nautiloid Zoril was on a walk with Makos, Zoril tried to save a few civilians but was caught by the ship while Makos could only watch in horror as the ship escaped with him, when the dragon attacked the ship it nearly burnt his face off and left him with a nasty scar. Makos quickly tracked him down due to a charm they both had allowing them to teleport directly to each other and has been following Zoril and the rest of the companions for the entire journey (story is still ongoing)

Lich

After the events of BG3, Zoril's health started to decline so he finally let Makos do the ritual to transform him into an Lich and now they live out their days together hunting criminals for their souls and keeping the peace while also taking it easy

-----

Apologies if this reads badly im not a writer, there are so many more things I wana share about him and Makos but I don't know how to put it into words

Here are some pictures of them in Neverwinter

Makos is the one with lighter skin in both sets of pictures

And some of them in bg3!

[zorilleerrant]

It’s quick, actually, getting set up. Jason has the feeling they’re taking pity on him because of how exhausted Damian looks. It’s not really exhaustion, not in the way they mean it, if Jason’s going to get technical about it, although it is pretty exhausting to be on edge all day, looking around corners for hidden spies and saboteurs, worried someone’s come to kill you like they always said someone would. Especially for a kid.

He doesn’t want to explain. Jason doesn’t want to explain the whole deal with Bruce, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone else the whole deal with Damian, and at least he doesn’t have to go over the whole deal about himself because the names on their IDs were always fake in the first place. (He needs to make sure he memorizes that name. He needs to remind Damian to memorize his.) At least they say he’s old enough to handle alcohol. Better a job at night, if he has any choice about it, considering how fast he needs one. They made that clear enough when they set him up here.

Damian relaxes when the door clicks closed, when Jason slides the bolt into place, even though he knows better than to think a simple building’s enough to keep them safe. The workmanship looks solid enough to keep out draft and rain, at least. Cramped, but clean and sweetly scented, a TV on the dresser. Two beds. Bathroom, with supplies. It’s like a hotel room. It might be a hotel room, originally.

“Where are we, baba?” Damian asks. He dutifully unpacked all of his belongings alongside Jason, silent while they worked, but now that they’re done, he can’t help but demand more explanations. He’s a kid. Jason remembers what he was like as a kid, mostly. It’s hard for them to just. Let things go.

“Home, for now,” Jason says, wearily. Batman can read body language with the best of them, and it’s more exhausting keeping everything relaxed, open, slightly too slow than it ever was staying poised for battle day in day out. It would’ve been okay if it had just been Jason, probably. Some homeless guy goes missing, it doesn’t matter how familiar he looks, even Batman lets it go eventually. Not with Damian tagging along, though. Now he’s invested. “We’re going to stay here until we find somewhere more permanent.”

“You said we’d stay in a safehouse,” Damian argues. He ducks his head after, that slight blush casting his cheeks in maroon, and stares at the floor. Jason wishes he wouldn’t. Jason’s only yelled at him twice, and both times since they started running, but it’s enough. Would he just go to sleep? If Jason said, right now, would he just listen and go to sleep?

“Plans change,” Jason says. Repeating the words tastes all the more bitter because he can’t tell whose advice he’s using. Probably everyone’s. Probably Jason’s the only person in the world who ever assumed he could just. Go home. And be fine.

Damian arranges the covers on his bed, but Jason can see the hesitation well before he starts speaking again. “How long will we be here, then?” He doesn’t look at Jason when he asks. He probably doesn’t expect an answer.

“I don’t know, kiddo,” Jason says. He doesn’t tug at his hair. That’ll just make the white streak worse. He has to set up school for Damian, right off, and public school probably isn’t going to cut it anymore, not with Bruce involved. Jason planned to send Damian to the same school he went to, a cozy, durable brick building, with old metal tables you couldn’t break no matter how hard you tried. They were good, there. They weren’t good teachers, but they were good people. And Damian needs to make friends. “I’ll see once I get a job.”

The job’s the second thing, up in priority now that they can’t access any accounts without raising suspicions, and he only has so much cash on him. Then the weapons. Costume, vehicle, supplies. Then he can see about taking back the skyline.

Not that he can do have the shit he planned, not if the Bat is watching him. Whatever. He wanted a quiet life for Damian, anyway, didn’t he? Let him be a kid, not a soldier. Let him playfight, not. Not everything everyone was doing back home. There. Back there, where he still has to return, if he has a hope of dragging any of the other kids away.

“I’m given to believe there aren’t that many job opportunities for someone with your particular skillset,” Damian says, with a sigh, rifling through his pajamas until he finds a pair suited to his taste, printed with, to Jason’s relief, dinosaurs. “Unless you think you can just write nasty motherfucker on your resume and be done with it.”

“Plenty of jobs for nasty motherfuckers in Gotham,” Jason says, ruffling Damian’s hair and shoving him in the direction of the bathroom. “Anyway, you’re eight, I’m not taking your bullshit advice on my resume. Go brush your teeth.” But it does make him wonder what educational credentials he has. He should’ve taken the time to fake them himself, even if it was faster to work over randoms unconnected to the League. He’d hate to be found out by his search history, after all. But he doesn’t know what they did and didn’t include.

He hopes the Bat isn’t watching him close enough to see him fake things up from here. He can use security measures all he wants; at some point he has to connect to a database.

Maybe he can enroll in university. Like, for real. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

Still. High school transcripts – hell, it may be easier to go in person, “help” them out finding the file when it doesn’t show up. Print it off for himself. Maybe even say hi to some old teachers who, like as not, actually remember him.

Kind of shitty education he was supposed to grow up with, there’s probably not much to be suspicious he doesn’t know, anyway.

“I know a lot about resumes,” Damian says, sleepily, crawling into bed and pulling the blanket up tight around his chin. “It’s part of infiltrating a company, you know. Didn’t you claim you could infiltrate a company?” Jason fluffs the pillow for him as Damian turns almost sideways looking for a soft spot.

“Got to look legitimate, pipsqueak, there’s a big bad Bat watching us in case we step one toe out of line.” Jason regrets it as soon as he says it. Damian’s eyes open again, and he scrutinizes Jason, trying to figure out what that tone is. When he does puzzle it out, Jason hopes Damian will let him know, too.

“So Bruce Wayne is dangerous after all,” Damian says, smugly, and then snuggles all the way into his pillow. Stretches. Tucks his hands under his chin with an angelic smile that has Jason checking the windows and door again, no matter how much they won’t hold against real determination. “Will you read me a story?”

Jason turns the table lamp on, the rest of them off. Glides his fingers along the spines of Damian’s book collection, an ad hoc assortment of favorite adventure novels he could throw together without anyone getting nervous. “Sure, buddy. What are you in the mood for?”

Prompt:

It’s not that Jason forgot, per se.

But between smuggling a toddler out of the League of Assassins, trekking halfway across the world, and finding a suitable hiding place that’s also child friendly… well, it kind of slipped his mind that he’s supposed to be… dead.

Something that comes back to bite him in the ass when he takes Dami out for some ice cream and just so happens to run into non other than Brucie-fucking-Wayne

[torbedo]

https://torbedo.shop/slimming-products/capsules-zoril

[zorilleerrant]

I think everyone should have some version of this because there's so much to play with comparing real life timelines to in world events, especially if you can find a way to incorporate multiple different canons. BUT I have a version (that's only trying to account for the comics) where they're all vampires, and they got turned into vampires when they debuted, at the age they debuted. Except for Alfred, because I think it's more fun if he's the oldest of all of them, so I'm merging other earlier staff to decide his history.

The idea is that vampires have a natural camouflaging magic that surrounds them, which means everyone except for other vampires thinks they're human, and chalks everything up to them being eccentric. Older stories about Bruce and Dick are attributed to previous generations of Waynes, or people think they remembered wrong and shift the details later, or they think it must have been someone else. (This doesn't tend to work on aliens and wizards and such, but they don't always know what is going on, just that something isn't right there.)

So there's a growing Batclan that involves ever more vampires, only people think that there's always be a Wayne family that's that big, and they've always been friends with the Foxes and the Gordons etc. They try to account for the timeline in a way that makes sense to them, and fix anything wrong in their heads instinctively. But since Batman et al have been acting in subtly inhuman ways, not trying to present themselves as regular denizens of Gotham, the magic doesn't account for that part.

Vampires have to be able to hunt, and in order to do that they have to be able to stun their prey, so when they're in attack mode the magic doesn't hide them and make them blend in. Bruce figured out how to harness that to create a persona in order to keep people in check, and has been trying to improve his city ever since. It's not required to be part of his vampire clan, but since vampires are social, a lot of them feel intrigued by the idea of being superheroes.

An important part of being a vampire, as the vampire council has discovered over time, is that necromantic magic will slowly drive a vampire insane, and so exposure has to be limited. This means they have to be careful not to kill when they feed (much easier with a large city like Gotham, where they can bite tons of people), and there's a huge magical backlash if one vampire kills another, but it's less clear how killing people impacts the magic in other circumstances. No one understands how the Joker survives, since he does all three. The League of Assassins and other cults have found ways to hybridize their DNA with humans to make them less vulnerable, although this also weakens some vampire powers.

This is why they heal quickly from every injury, can levitate to some degree (e.g. to change direction midair), move faster and hit harder than humans for even prolonged periods, don't tire, don't have to eat much (except blood), have some hypnotic abilities, can see tiny clues, and have such impressive memories.

Dick always talks like he's super old because he's lived through all these shifts in popular media, and he misses old adventure stories, even though he can see more of the issues with them now. It's also why he's more willing to try new ones, because he's seen so many it's hard to stay stuck on one thing, even though he has his favorites. He loves the project of remastering old music, because it sounds like it did back then - but he still prefers live bands.

Jason likes the 80s, Tim and Steph have different preferences from the 90s, Cass is from the 00s and has yet different taste. Duke is up on current trends, but his favorites are starting to solidify. When they have arguments about it in public, the magic convinces people they're just into older music, not that they were there at the time. It's more impressive when they argue about TV, though, because they seem to have encyclopedic knowledge of shows that are hard to track down. It also impact their fashion sense, although they try their best to stay current and fashionable....

consider some kind of fae/immortal AU so ALL of the Batfam is older than they look - so Jason, despite looking like a teen, is very firmly from the eighties and hates everyone's taste in music. Dick agrees but he likes Big Band

Ok I love this!!!! 80s Jason and 40s Dick—is everybody from the era they debuted in???? That's such a fun detail. Please tell me you have more on this haha

[psyoni]

My Tav Zoril ( tiefling and fallen paladin) and Shadowheart (Shady)

I'm a real artist, not AI - Agregor (and NeuroOni)

Commissions Are Open! Note me, if you interested

[zorilleerrant]

House Call

@flashfictionfridayofficial

“I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go,” he says to me, covered in blood, as you do, and I stare at him in bewilderment. He continues to stand in the rain, on my balcony, looking at me pitifully with big sad eyes. Not that he's not severely injured, but still. He's just standing there.

“How do you know where I live?” I ask. Honestly, he's made no indication he even cares who I am, and I've tried reaching out. So the stalking is a new angle on the whole thing with him.

He glares at me. Now I'm wondering if I missed some vital piece of infosec somewhere in all this. “You know I'm a mirror, right? Like, not to say that anyone with a memetic power could find you, but yours isn't exactly subtle. I know who you are walking down the street and all.” Secret identities are hard.

“I feel like that's something you probably shouldn't share with superheroes. For like. Safety reasons,” I tell him. I still haven't invited him in.

I expect him to shove me aside, or else to ask for help again, but instead he just says, “the NSA already has a file on me as thick as your arm. You just didn't look it up.”

“I'm not allowed to look them up anymore,” I remind him. That, at least, everyone knows.

He scoffs at me. “Like they would stop you.” He peers around my shoulder, and I reflexively block his view, not that it matters. If I'm going to help him – and I should – he's going to find out Chaim's here, anyway.

“Does your boyfriend know about,” he gestures vaguely at the night sky, “all of this?”

“Yes,” I snap, because I may have gone independent, but I'm not about to let supervillains start dictating my personal life, “and stop assuming things about my relationships with other people.” He gives me the most withering look. What does he know? He's like twelve.

“Look, not to tell you how to be the responsible adult here, but generally you should've either let me in or told me to fuck off,” he reminds me. He's holding his arm like it's broken. I thought he had a healing factor. I guess that was borrowed, too.

“I'm not going to tell you to fuck off,” I tell him, even though I still don't let him in. He almost laughs.

“I know,” he says, and finally pushes past me, through the balcony doors and into the living room, where Chaim isn't, because he's watching around the doorway a little too obviously. We're going to have to work on that. “It's why I came here.”

“If you know my address, you know my name,” I say, in consternation, while Chaim debates between giving a normal introduction to an exam and saying absolutely nothing.

“I'm not going to use it,” the kid says, wincing patiently as Chaim tries to treat his injuries, as unsure as I am about the end goal of patching him up, anyway. “I wouldn't tell anyone, anyway.”

“Can you give me your arm?” Chaim asks, gloved hands reaching out and, at a quick shake of the head, gently taking hold of it, “this really isn't something we should be doing at home, with nothing but a first aid kit handy,” Chaim says, but sets the kid's arm before he even has a chance to formulate an argument.

“I'll be fine,” the kid says, tears streaming from his eyes, but maintaining a fairly stoic demeanor. All of us try to avoid staring at the scars across his arms and chest. “I just need somewhere to lie low for a couple hours without, you know, bleeding out. Once I get home I've got a healer.”

“I don't like this,” Chaim says.

“I don't like it, either, but I'm not in charge of him,” I say.

“What's your name, sweetheart?” Chaim says, taking a needle to torn flesh. He doesn't use an anesthetic. I don't know why. He always does with me. He's more careful than he is with me, either, trying to watch the kid's face even as he works.

“He knows my name,” the kid says, gesturing vaguely at me, and giving both of us looks like we're idiots.

“I'm not calling you that,” I tell him. To which he just rolls his eyes, again. Chaim raises a questioning eyebrow, and I add, defensively, “it's a stupid name. He picked a stupid name. He's going to regret it in a few years. You know he will.”

“It's still his name,” Chaim says, dabbing on antiseptic cream in whichever places he deems appropriate, “you might as well call him what he likes while he's using it.”

The kid sighs. “Corinth. Is that better? I go by Corinth with people who don't know me professionally.” Which, you know, I don't really have any idea what to say to.

“Okay, Corinth,” Chaim says, “I'm going to shine a light in your eyes. Please try not to bite me,” and I realize he probably spends more time treating kids than he'd like to. Corinth seems horrified by the suggestion.

“Well, I just think, if you're going to be dropping by for treatment at random,” I tell him, watching him submit to the exam with sullen cooperation, “we ought to know your name, at the very least.”

“I'm not going to be dropping by,” Corinth says, once Chaim releases his chin, “this is strictly a one time thing, when there's, like, a murderer chasing me?”

“There's a murderer chasing you?” I ask, which is what I get for not questioning why the hell he looked like that in the first place. You know, you tell yourself ‘oh it's regular supervillain stuff’ and you end up forgetting the sort of thing that lands supervillains in this kind of predicament in the first place.

[johnny-em]

Ioan Muntean - se înmoaie întunericul (cybersonet XXXIV)

Sursă: Ioan Muntean – se înmoaie întunericul (cybersonet xxxiv) – Cronopediada grup – Cronopedia Maraton Panorama Literară 2024, noiembrie 12. (poezie, cybersonet) ~ ciclul Calendar ~ se înmoaie întunericul (cybersonet XXXIV) se înmoaie întunericul se lasă și-ncet ca un val se retrage dinspre răsărit zorile se ţeasă iar cerul în culori se atrage – un vis de opal mângâiat de rouă se trezește…

[une-reveuse]

Când norii conspirau, in taină, invidioși pe stele Ca paravan să-mi fie, să nu orbesc de ele; Când nimbușii se înfoiau să-și ia-napoi văzduhul Doar câțiva aștri palizi le ocoleau tăvălugul Și se-agățau de pânza neagră-smoală cu surdă obstinență O insurecție tăcută, o astro-rezistență. Si n-au văzut niciunii, fiind prinși în sfada lor, Că eu cu ea goneam-cometă cu mult deasupra tuturor.

Până-n Eden și înapoi Doi e unu și-unu-i doi Din plonjonul in extaz ies viu, ies treaz.

N-am clipe pentru aștri, din ele să se-nfrupte Azi n-am ochi să-i admire prin conflagrații mute Nu am vreme de ceruri, chiar de-or tuși un tunet, Că sunt atent numai la ea ca s-o sărut pe suflet Și ochii ei au luat deodată privirea mea ostatică Și timpul a înțepenit într-o cadență statică Și cine mai știa ceva de aștrii derbedei când eu dădeam încet din aripi pe după crugul ei?

Și ne-am iubit odată de ne țin minte zorile Și-or povesti la alții și iarba și cu florile Și chiar Alteța-Lună și-o aminti mereu Cum ne-am sorbit cu sete plonjând în apogeu;

Până-n Eden și înapoi Doi e unu și-unu-i doi Din plonjonul in extaz ies viu, ies treaz

Și au fost și roibi într-un ocean, Heron și Dumnezeu Cu toții-acolo undeva…între lumina orașului și un-înghețat releu.

[k-quenouille]

how to differentiate a Polecat (Putois) from a Skunk (Mouffette)

idk i looked up Polecat (putois actually) and it showed many many pictures of Skunks smh (somehow),,,,

Polecat (Putois) look incredibly similar to a Ferret (Furet), they could also be compared to a Marten (Martre) or a Weasel (Belette), as they have similar features (they are from the same family after all; Mustelidae)

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In comparison, Skunks (mouffette) are a part of the Mephitidae family. Sub-species include; Conepatus, Mephitis, Mydaus and Spilogale.

This is a Mephitis, the "common" skunk:

--------

They have completely different bones structures:

Polecat ("common");

Skunk (Mephitis "common");

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Their coat:

Polecat (Putois): there is a type of Polecat that look similar to a Skunk (Mouffette), such as the Stripped Polecat, also called the Zorilla (Zorille), usually a Polecat's coat is brown-ish (as seen in the first picture of this post)

Skunk (Mouffette): Skunks are always black and white (the black can be replaced by brown), usually with two stripes down the middle (though it may vary to spots or a single line depending on which sub-species you find, to the left is a Spilogale, and to the right is a Mydaus), which is completely different from a Zorilla, who will have 3+ stripes

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Still confused because "WAIT THERE'S STRIPPED POLECATS????"

an other trick to differentiate them is their face marks:

Polecat (Putois "Stripped"): They literally have eyebrows

Skunks (Mephitis "Common"): Their face is split into two by a single line

Skunk (Spilogale "Spotted"): their face markings looks very similar to the Polecat, but their coat is very unique

Skunk (Conepatus (very similar to Mephitis)): cant put any more pictures but it kind of looks like they have halo/crown from the front and no face marks

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Their tails:

this is a generalisation, but often, a Skunk has a "poofier" tail than a Polecat (who usually has a slim tail).

A skunk (Mephitis & Conepatus) is fuller, it has more fur than a Polecat.

Whilst a polecat can have a poofy tail, it usually looks devoid of fur, very skrunkly looking:

Compare it to the first skunk picture and you'll get it (i am reaching the picture limit,,,)

As for the other two skunk sub-species:

Spilogale ("Spotted"): their tails looks very similar to a Polecat's, but as seen before, their coat is very unique, Polecats do not have that variation

Mydaus ("Single-line" or as a lot of ppl i talked to have called them; "rat"): What tail? it's so tiny you can barely see it,,,

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AAAND that's it! I may have gotten some stuff wrong, but i like doing spontaneous research for fun :D

[cydrone-studios]

Miron Radu Paraschivescu – Cântec de fată neagră (poem)

Drag mi-a fost de când mă ştiu roşu-aprins şi stacojiu, luntrea roşie pe unde, calul roib suind la munte. În pridvor stă visătoare fata neagră, neagră floare, păru-i roşu ca de sânge ochii-n rouă parc-ar plânge. Şi în bucle, dulcea lună i-a pirostrit o cunună ca o pară de făclie, dar ea n-o vede, n-o ştie. Numai roşu mi-a plăcut. Stele mari clipesc tăcut; aburite, printre ele, zorile-şi desfac…

[zorilleerrant]

I have just today decided to do Camp Nano! (Why? I have too many things to do! So I should add more! That way my list has friends!) Anyway I've decided to use the working title Back Compatible and it's sort of cyberpunk!

Doing camp nano this year ✌️⛺

With my fatigue being so bad, just setting a goal to write every day a little and to spend at least Wednesday working on my OG novel. Which should be easily achievable- the main change is I do want to start working on 'They Too Have Teeth'. I had expected to get a lot done on it this summer, but alas...

Anyone else playing along?

[dininimapentrumine]

Un gând bun din Scriptură

Ecl 11:10 Goneşte orice necaz din inima ta şi depărtează răul din trupul tău; căci tinereţea şi zorile vieţii sunt trecătoare. Pentru că viața este scurtă și plină de surprize dragul meu alege să slujești sincer celui ce este Măreț și Sfânt! Înțelege că nu tu ești stăpân, chiar dacă acum esti sănătos, ai succes și lipsit de suferință. Acestă stare binenecuvântată se datorează Stăpânului!  Deci…

[alummarhausa]

Abubuwan Da Ya Kamata Ku Sani Game Da Dabbar Bodari.

Kalamar BODARI da Hausa ne amma da yaren ingilishi ana kiransa da suna Polecat Afrika ko kuma kace zoril, zorille, zorilla, Cape polecat, ko kuma Skunk na Afirka wannan duk ana iya kiransa dashi. Tsayin sa ya kai santimita 60-70 Wanda yay dai dai da inci 24-28, daga Kansa zuwa Jelar sa. Sannan iya jelar sa tana da tsayin 10-15 santimita, haka zalika suna da nauyin da yakai 1.3 kilo gram bakake…

[booksandwords]

Halloween Darkness by Euryia Larsen

Series: A Monstrous Mistake Read time: <1 Day Rating: 3/5 Stars

The Quote: “The Sandman. He’s not as television would have you believe. Dreams are powerful whether good or bad. Without dreams there would be chaos without hope, for our dreams go hand in hand with our hopes.” “What about nightmares? Don’t they destroy hope by amplifying our fears?” “Nightmares give us the power to face our fears without true consequence. But, they can become dangerous. The Sandman’s job is not only to give us hope through our dreams, but also to control the nightmares before they can consume us.” “You seem to know a lot about this Sandman, but answer me this… does the master of dreams, dream?” — Klaas and Daria

Warnings: maybe death (? it's complicated, but they deserve it)

This took me less than an hour to read while I was on a commute home. While I do refer to it as not quite a novella of smut held together by something approximating a plot, I did get lost in it. It was a pleasant way to spend the tram trip. The plot is used simply as a way to tie the smexy stuff together. I think that plot has potential in the hands of a writer who writes in the right style. That is not to say I don't like the writing of Halloween Darkness because I do. Euryia Larsen has a way with words that suits the characters.

On the characters. Klaas Zoril is pretty good as the Sandman lonely and longing for what the fates promised him (damn bi**hs as always). His mind intrigues me, he sees the world in a way that is unusual for a character that has a monster archetype. I like Daria, I think, but I'm not quite sure. She has a slightly confusing attitude, though there is something appealing about her grounded attitude. The thing I do appreciate is her recognition of the way Klaas treats his guitar. Knowing what that means. They work well together even if the way it starts as we see it is not only unconventional but potentially slightly problematic.

This is part of the A Monstrous Mistake series/ shared verse. The story I read before this was Latrexa Nova's Halloween Spirit, Euryia Larsen uses monster elements in a different way to Latrexa Nova, not playing with them in the same way or with the same intensity. Honestly. this usage suits Sandman more than the intensity of death.